The Dress Robes
by B Bennett
Summary: Events the summer after GoF.
1. Part I

The Dress Robes 

B Bennett 

Rated G, R/H. First half of the story, with the 2nd to follow soon. Takes place after 'Getting Close to Somewhere' and before 'Watching Harry', although you don't need to read either to understand it. All my thanks to Moey, Zsenya, Elanor Gamgee, and Arabella for giving me the drive to actually finish this.

As always, I would appreciate any comments you would like to make, and thank you very much for reading.

*************

Hey, what time is it?" 

Harry sighed. It was the third time he'd been asked in the last hour. He held out his wrist so Ron could see his watch. "She's not late, we're early. And would you stop pacing? You're making me dizzy."

"Oh." Ron looked sheepish. "Sorry." He sat down on the white stone step next to Harry. "I just thought maybe I told her the wrong time or something."

Harry tried to be patient. "You read me the letter. 'Wednesday, August 17th at 10:00 o'clock, steps in front of Gringotts'. She'll be here." 

"She won't if you told her the 17th. Today's the 16th." 

Harry turned his head. Fred, George and Ginny Weasley were standing behind them, having just come through the great bronze doors of the wizarding bank. 

Ron stood. "The 16th?" he repeated, a panicked expression on his face. "It's the wrong day?"

Ginny shook her head, tucking a yellow piece of paper into her satchel. "Really funny, Fred. It's the 17th. It's right here on the receipt."

George grinned. "I thought it was funny." He draped an arm around his younger brother's shoulders. "Girlfriend stand you up?" he asked, his voice full of sympathy.

Ron shrugged off the arm, his face reddening. "Both of you can sod off."

Harry shook his head. Fred and George had teased Ron incessantly since they'd returned from holiday. It was getting old. "Did you finish your banking?" he asked Ginny.

Ginny nodded, seeming pleased he had asked. "Oh, yes! I withdrew enough for books, supplies, and lunch. Mum told me to pay for everything and give her the receipts when we…"

"Thanks, Gin," Fred interrupted, "but if this is leading to Mum's 'If only you were as responsible as your sister' speech, then no need to repeat; we've heard it before."

"Well," Ginny said, looking a bit self-satisfied, "if you could be trusted not to spend every knut you get on toys and exploding things, then maybe Mum would leave _you_ in charge." 

"Research," George said loftily. 

Ginny snorted. "Right, that's what it's called." 

Pointedly ignoring his sister, Fred yawned, stretching his freckled arms wide. "Are we going to stand here all day, or what?" he asked lazily. 

"We can't leave until Hermione gets here," Ron snapped. He shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted at the crowded street. "See her yet, Harry?" he asked, sounding anxious.

"There," George said. He cupped a hand around his mouth. "Hey! Hermione!"

Harry looked where George pointed, and his eyes were immediately drawn to his other best friend. Hermione looked up second's later and caught sight of them. Even at a distance, he could see the look of relief that washed over her face. He watched as she pushed her way through the crowd and hurried up the steps. She was out of breath when she reached top. 

"I'm so sorry!" she panted. "Our train was late! Have you been waiting long?" 

"Only a few minutes," Ron said quickly. He ignored George, who was suddenly stricken with a violent coughing fit.

Hermione collapsed against one of the marble columns that supported the arched entryway. "Oh! I was afraid I'd miss you." She held a hand to her chest. "Goodness, my heart's pounding. I ran all the way from The Leaky Cauldron." 

Ron jammed his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight. "You weren't late," he said, his voice sounding unnaturally high to Harry. "We had to do banking anyway."

Hermione looked up at Ron. She seemed to hesitate a moment, then a smile spread across her face, and she pushed away from the column to put her arms around his waist. "It's good to see you," she said, hugging him tightly. "I can't believe it's only been two weeks."

Ron hugged her back, and Harry could see over the top of Hermione's curly hair that he was blushing. "It's good to see you, too," Ron mumbled.

When Hermione finally turned to Harry, she was also blushing.

"Hi, you," she said happily, and caught him around the neck.

Harry blinked, then returned the embrace, feeling his own cheeks go warm. It was always a surprise when Hermione hugged him; he wasn't used to being touched. 

She released Harry and gave Ginny a quick hug, then said hello to Fred and George. "I'm sorry to make you wait longer, but I've got to run in and change some money," she said. "I'll just be a minute." The apology seemed to be for the group, but her eyes drifted to Ron. 

"I'll go with you," Ron volunteered, his ears still pink.

Hermione smiled at him, then crossed to the doors. The goblin guard, who had been standing motionless beside one of the column, snapped to attention, and in one swift motion, pulled a door open for her. She didn't notice Fred and George, who were blowing kisses at Ron.

Ron's face darkened. "Be right back," he said to Harry and Ginny. He made a rude gesture at the twins before following Hermione inside. 

"Why didn't we get hugged?" Fred complained as soon as the door had closed. 

"Because you're gits." Ginny looked cross. "Why're you giving Ron such a hard time?"

"Oh, come-on," Fred grinned. "We're older. It's required."

George nodded. "And we owe him for dragging us out of bed so early this morning." He clasped his hands together and pressed them against his cheek. "'Oh, no, Hermione, you're not late," he said, in mocking imitation of Ron, 'we just got here'. Honestly."

Harry shook his head, grinning. He couldn't decide which he felt more: amusement at Fred and George, admiration for Ron at having the courage to admit his feelings, or the funny strangeness he got at the thought of _Ron_ and _Hermione…_

"Well, you can just stop it," Ginny said sharply. "You're going to embarrass Hermione."

"We wouldn't dream of embarrassing her." Fred caught Harry's eye and winked. "Asking if she doesn't think Ron's got the most adorably freckled nose she's ever seen is a perfectly reasonable question, isn't it, Harry?"

"Fred," Ginny started, but her impending tirade was cut short as Hermione and Ron came back through the doors. They were laughing quietly about something, and it struck Harry that even though Ron's complexion seemed to have now taken on a permanent red tinge, he looked happier than he'd seen him in the last two weeks. 

"So," Hermione said cheerfully, "Where do we go first?"

"The joke shop," George said promptly.

"George, really, it's no wonder Mum…" 

"Kidding, Ginny!" George said. He glanced at his watch. "Let's head for Flourish and Blotts and at least pick up our books. We're meeting Charlie at noon for lunch, so that doesn't leave us much time." 

"Charlie's here?" Hermione asked, as they walked down the steps.

Ron nodded. "Mum had a fit over us coming alone; flat out said we couldn't. Dad got pulled into a meeting short notice, so Mum owled Charlie and asked him to come baby-sit us."

"We managed to ditch him," George added, making a face, "but we have to check in every two hours. And we had to promise we'd all stay together."

"Because I don't know if you're aware of this, Hermione," Fred sounded annoyed, "but we're completely incapable of taking care of ourselves."

"Oh," Harry felt Hermione glance in his direction. "I doubt they really think that." She reached out and linked one arm through his and the other through Ron's. "Now," she said, "I want to hear everything that's happened since you left me off at home, and you can't leave out a single detail."

Harry smiled, appreciating the change in conversation. Hermione was the most tactful person he knew. He saw an opportunity, however, that he couldn't let pass. 

"Ron?" he asked, frowning, "I thought those three letters a day you've been writing were for Hermione. Who've you been owling?"

Everyone burst out laughing, including Ron.

Harry didn't bother to hide his grin as Ron slid his arm out of Hermione's and reached for her hand. 

"You're really funny, Harry," Ron said, not quite succeeding with a glare. "Just hysterical."

Hermione gave Harry's arm a squeeze. "I think you're brilliant," she said, her warm eyes smiling into his.

Harry felt himself blush. "I suppose I can live with that," he said, hoping he sounded nonchalant. 

Everyone laughed again, and Harry only half listened as the conversation turned to the events of last evening's Quidditch game.

****

They hadn't been walking long when Ron came to a sudden stop, pulling Hermione and Harry with him. "Hey, this isn't how you get to Flourish and Blotts," he announced, looking around. "Fred, you've brought us the wrong way." 

Harry looked at the store sign in front of them. They were in front of 'Robes for All Occasions'. 

"Hmm," George mused, peering in a window of the shop, "so we did." The twins shared a look. Suddenly moving very quickly, they reached out to grab Ron by the shoulders; Hermione was forced to drop his hand as he was yanked forward.

"Hey! What're you doing?" Ron asked, too surprised to resist.

"Come on, Ron, this is for your own good," George said. "Harry, get that door."

Harry obediently jumped in front of them to push open the glass front door, which set a bell to tinkling. He pressed himself against the doorframe as George and Fred marched Ron inside.

The interior of the shop was cool but well lit. A plump, iron-haired witch was standing in a bay window, straightening big, pillowy bolts of fabric. Harry recognized her as Madam Malkin.

She looked up and smiled. "Can I help you?" she asked pleasantly.

Fred nodded. "Yes, please." He pushed Ron in front of him. "He needs dress robes."

Madam Malkin clapped her hands together. "Hogwarts, dear?" she beamed. "I was so delighted when I heard the Yule Ball had been reinstated. Dark times or not, that was a tradition that never should've fallen to the wayside, if you want my opinion. Now, let me get my measure, dear, and we'll see where to begin." Without waiting for another word, she hurried to the back room.

Ron turned on Fred and George. "What're you playing at?" he demanded, starting to look angry. "This isn't funny."

Fred grinned. "We're not playing at anything, you big git. Those robes Mum bought you last year are terrible, so we're getting you some new ones."

Ron's jaw dropped open. "What?"

George's grin was identical to his twin's. "Close your mouth. We're getting you new robes. Now don't ask questions."

"But why?" Ron looked bewildered. "How?"

Fred shook his head and sighed. "You never listen. The why is that you've grown miles and there's no way last year's robes'll fit you. Plus, they're girly. Sorry, but it's true. The how is we made _loads_ of money selling Canary Creams last term."

"So you can't say anything to Mum," George warned. "she'd kill us if she knew where we got the money."

Ron gaped at them a moment, then shook his head. "Sorry, I don't buy it. Why spend that kind of money on me?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Well, we're not getting you ones woven out of gold, you idiot - it's not _that_ much money."

"Consider it an investment," George suggested. "We've a reputation to uphold; we can't have you running around looking like a prat."

Ron looked to Harry, his expression still dumbfounded. "Did you know about this?" 

Harry met his best friend's eyes. "No," he said.

Ron turned to Hermione and Ginny. "What about you two?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not," she laughed.

Although Ginny's grin reminded Harry of the twins, he noticed that her eyes were damp, and that her face glowed with pride. "If I were you, I'd say yes and stop asking silly questions." 

Ron looked back at the twins. He seemed hesitant.

Fred lifted both palms. "Well?" he asked.

Ron shrugged and grinned bashfully. "Okay. Thanks."

"Oh, this is so wonderful!" Hermione squealed and grabbed Ron's hand. "Ginny, we've got to find a color!"

Harry fought a snigger at Ron's expression as Hermione and Ginny forced him over to a fabric display near the counter, where, holding swatches to his face, the girls began an animated conversation about which colors best compliment red hair and freckles.

Madam Malkin bustled in from the back room. "Now, dear," she said briskly, addressing Ron, "let's get your measurements. My, you're a tall one, aren't you?"

Harry watched as Madam Malkin directed Ron to small alcove, where she asked him to stand on a footstool.

"Harry."

Harry glanced at the twins. They both looked serious. 

Fred cleared his throat, then clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Thanks," he said. 

Harry couldn't think of anything to say, so he just shrugged. It seemed to be enough. 

They stood quietly for a moment, watching as Madam Malkin asked Ron to switch places with her so that she could reach his shoulders.

"Hey," George said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Let's go suggest maroon with lace trim and see if Ron's head pops off."

Harry laughed, which he expected George had hoped for, and followed the twins over to the fitting area.

****** 


	2. Part II

Although Harry didn't find travelling by Floo powder as stomach wrenching as he once had, it still wasn't his favorite activity

The Dress Robes, Part II

B Bennett

Please see part I for disclaimer information. Please let me know what you think of this by reviewing, and thank you for reading.

***

Although Harry didn't find travelling by Floo powder as stomach wrenching as he once had, it still wasn't his favorite activity. Coughing, he stumbled out of the fireplace and into the kitchen at the Burrow.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley was standing by the fire, wand in hand. Harry wondered how long she'd been waiting; the kitchen sparkled, as though from repeated cleanings. "Are the boys and Ginny behind you?" she asked, looking anxious.

Before Harry could answer, the fire flashed green and Ron stepped out, a heavy satchel slung across his shoulders and a smudge of soot on his nose. 

"'Lo, Mum. What's for supper? I'm starved. Ginny wouldn't let us get dessert with lunch." He nodded at Harry. "Better move, Fred and Charlie are still at it."

Harry jumped out of the way just as the fire flashed again. Fred, muttering to himself, stepped into the kitchen.

"Stubborn git, won't believe a word…Hi, Mum, what's for supper?…As if I'd make it all up."

There was a third flash. Charlie appeared.

"You're wrong," he declared, stepping over the hearth. Turning, he bent toward the fire and vigorously shook his head. A fine layer of soot drifted from his red hair.

"It can't be done. Not unless your Keeper's completely incompetent, that is." He smiled at Mrs. Weasley. "Hi, Mum. Is supper soon? I could eat a flobberworm."

"I'm telling you, it can be," Fred insisted, dropping his Diagon Alley packages onto the kitchen counter. "Get the brooms and I'll show you."

There were two more flashes. George and Ginny arrived.

Ginny shook her head. "You two aren't still arguing, are you?" She smiled at her mother. "Hello, Mum. I've got your receipts."

Mrs. Weasley smiled back. She looked relieved. "Thank you, dear. Did you get everything you needed?"

Ginny nodded. "Except for the fourth year Divination textbook." She grinned at Harry. "But Harry said I could borrow his."

Mrs. Weasley patted Harry on the shoulder. "That's sweet of you, dear, but I'm sure she can use Ron's old one."

Outside of his mother's vision, Ron shook his head vigorously at Ginny, mouthing _'No!_'. 

Harry grinned. By the time Ron received a textbook, it had usually been through at least two other Weasleys. As Ron wasn't particularly careful with his school things, it was a rare for a book to survive an entire year. He generally ended up sharing with Harry, not that Harry minded.

"We've got time before supper for a quick game, right?" Fred asked.

"Supper? Oh, yes, go ahead. I'll get started." Mrs. Weasley flicked her wand. A door in the corner cupboard opened and an apron shot out, flying across the room and into her hand.

"Get a broom," Fred ordered Charlie. "And I expect a full apology once I've proved you wrong."

Charlie stuck out his tongue at Fred before heading down the narrow passage that led to the staircase.

"We should get ours, too," Harry said to Ron. "This'll be worth seeing."

"Oh." Ron glanced over Harry's shoulder at his brothers. He lowered his voice. "You go on without me. I've got something I need to take care of. I'll be out in a minute."

Harry stared at Ron. "You're owling Hermione again, aren't you?" 

Ron turned red. "No. Well, just a quick note. I'll be fast."

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched. "Ron, we just saw her ten minutes ago."

"I know," Ron said, sounding defensive. "I forgot to tell her something."

Harry considered asking how Ron could've forgotten to tell Hermione anything after the two had spent the entire day not more than ten inches apart, but he thought better of it. "Okay," Harry said. "I'll tell them you'll be down later."

Ron looked grateful. "Thanks, Harry." He left the kitchen. 

"Ron going after the brooms?" George asked. 

Harry shook his head. "Uh, no.…" He dropped his voice. "He's taking his robes upstairs so your mum won't see them."

"Oh." George glanced at Mrs. Weasley, then cleared his throat. "Well, I'll just go up and get our brooms, then." 

Mrs. Weasley had put a pot to boil on the stove, and was using her wand to peel potatoes above it. "George," she called, as he headed for the staircase, "if you're going upstairs, then you can take your school things, too." She picked up one of the bags from the counter next to her and held it out toward her son. A folded piece of yellow parchment slipped out and drifted to the floor. 

She set the bag back down and bent to retrieve the paper. "What's this?" she asked.

George's eyes widened, and he made a grab for the paper, hand outstretched. "Nothing, it's trash. I'll get it." 

Mrs. Weasley beat him to it. "Is this one of your receipts, Ginny?" she asked, unfolding the paper.

Ginny shook her head. "Shouldn't be. I put them all in my…" Her voice trailed off at her mother's expression. "Mum? What's wrong?"

Mrs. Weasley looked at George, who had skidded to a stop in front of her. There was a splash as the potatoes dropped from the air and into the pot. "Where did this come from?" she asked. 

"Where'd what come from?" Charlie asked cheerfully as he returned, broomstick in hand.

George glanced at Fred, who'd gone pale. Neither answered.

"I asked," Mrs. Weasley repeated, her voice louder, "where this came from?"

"Mum?" Charlie looked concerned. "What is it?" 

Her eyes still on her twin sons, Mrs. Weasley held out the paper to Charlie. "It's a receipt for a new account, opened today in Fred and George's name."

Charlie studied the paper, letting out a low whistle. "Nearly a thousand Galleons. Wow." He looked up, curious. "What'd you two do, rob a train?"

Harry froze.

"That's not funny!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. She grabbed George by the arm. "George," she demanded, "Where'd this come from?"

Although both taller and heavier than his mother, George's expression was one of terror. He couldn't seem to speak. "Well," he finally said, his voice higher than usual, "we've been saving our allowance, and …" 

"DON'T lie to me! Remember who pays your allowance!" She snatched the paper back from Charlie and waved it in George's face. "This is from those practical jokes we told you to stop making, isn't it?"

"No! Mum, really, it isn't what it seems…" George began. 

Fred took a brave step closer. "Mum…we can't tell you."

"You certainly WILL tell me!" Mrs. Weasley yelled. Harry had never seen her so angry. "When your father gets home, you're going to…"

She was interrupted by a 'pop' as Mr. Weasley Apparated at the kitchen door.

"Great timing," Fred muttered, rubbing his eyes.

Mr. Weasley looked exhausted. "Hullo, everyone. Have a good day?"

"Fred and George certainly did." Mrs. Weasley thrust the receipt at her husband. 

Harry watched as Mr. Weasley scanned the paper. He could tell when he got to the number part because his eyes bugged out, like the characters in the cartoons that Dudley was so fond of watching.

"Where did this come from?" he asked.

"They were just about to explain that," Mrs. Weasley said, glaring at the boys. 

Fred cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he said, straightening. "We promised we wouldn't tell. We didn't get it illegally or anything like that, if that's what you're worried about."

George nodded. "You just have to trust us that it was a gift."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Surely you'd don't expect us to believe someone _gave_ you that much money?"

"Well, it wasn't really a gift." Fred said. "It was more of an investment." He looked at George, then cleared his throat. "It's official. We're going to open a joke shop when we graduate. Weasley Wizard Wheezes."

Mrs. Weasley's laugh was heavy with disbelief. "You can't be serious! You know nothing about running your own business."

"We don't!" Fred said eagerly. "I mean, we didn't, but we've been doing research." He turned to George. "Go get the books," he urged.

George ran for the stairs. 

Fred grabbed one of the bags from Diagon Alley and pulled out a book, which he thrust into his father's hands.

Mr. Weasley held the book out at arm's length, peering down through his glasses. "From A to Z - How to Get Your New Wizarding Business Off the Ground_._" 

George pounded back down the stairs and into the kitchen with an armload of books, which he dumped on the table. "These aren't all," he panted, "we just sent a box back to school."

Mrs. Weasley picked up a paper volume. "Gringotts' Guide to Financing the Fledgling Business_._"She picked up another. "How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying: The Wizards' Edition."

"We've been reading all summer," Fred said quickly. "We've learned loads. Go ahead, ask us anything."

Mr. Weasley looked at both boys a moment before he put down the book. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Boys, I'm impressed you've taken the time to study up on this - really, I am. But I'm afraid you haven't thought of the implications. Owning your own business has responsibilities I don't think you've considered."

"And besides which, this isn't a career, it's a _hobby_," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "You couldn't possibly make enough money to live on. If you went into the Ministry, you'd have a stable income with good benefits, and you could do this on this side for fun. But as your only means of income?"

Fred looked at his mother. "If we go into the Ministry," he said, "we might end up like Percy."

"Fred!" Mr. Weasley said sharply.

Mrs. Weasley paled. Percy had moved out at the beginning of the summer. He wasn't speaking to his father. 

Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. "Percy will come around. He just needs time. And you can't reject a career at the Ministry, a _good_ career, because of a misunderstanding."

George shouted. "Mum, you always talk about us like we're _one_ person!" He grabbed Fred by the shoulder. "This is Fred. He's half and inch shorter than me. He's loads better at Arithmancy, and he sneaks Ron's Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle comics when he thinks no one's looking." 

Fred looked startled. 

George slapped his own chest. "I'm George. I like to write. I have a notebook of short stories, but I've never shown them to anyone. I'm going to let me hair start growing the day I graduate and not cut it until it's as long as Ginny's." 

Mrs. Weasley sounded exasperated. "George, don't be melodramatic. Of course I know you're two people. One person alone couldn't possibly cause so much trouble."

"Then treat us like it!" George yelled. 

George!" Mr. Weasley snapped. "Don't speak to your mother that way!"

George held up a hand. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Look…" he ran his fingers through his hair, then shrugged. "I don't know what else I can say. I'm sorry, Mum, but like it or not, Fred and I are going into business together - not into the Ministry."

"George…" Mrs. Weasley began.

Fred's jaw was set. "We're decided, Mum. Sorry."

Mrs. Weasley looked from Fred to George, her expression unreadable.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "All right, you've made yourselves clear. You're old enough to make your own decisions. We certainly can't force you to go into the Ministry, and…" he glanced at his wife. "I understand your reasons." He shook his head. "But boys, there's still the matter of the money. You've got to understand why we're concerned."

Harry saw Fred look at George. George shook his head slightly, squaring his shoulders. Neither looked his way. 

__

"I'm sorry, Dad, but…"

"I gave it to them," Harry blurted. 

Everyone stared at him.

"What?" Mr. Weasley said, looking shocked.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I gave it to them."

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "Harry, why?"

Harry searched for a plausible lie, but found none. "I just did."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to have found her voice again. "Harry, dear, you can't just give away that much money out of the blue! You must've had a reason."

"Not really," Harry said, finding it hard to meet Mrs. Weasley's eyes. "I just did."

"It was Harry's winnings from the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry turned. Ginny was standing by the fireplace. He'd almost forgotten she was there.

Ginny smiled. "Wasn't it?" she asked, gently.

__

Both of us. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it.

Harry looked at the floor.

Mr. Weasley laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry," he said quietly, "that money was hard earned."

Harry swallowed. "I want Fred and George to have it." _We've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together._ Harry's heart beat faster.

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, "You could do a lot with that money. Have you really thought this…"

__

Cedric grinned. "You're on."

He pulled away from Mr. Weasley. "Look, I don't want it!" he shouted. "I tried to give it to the Diggorys, but they wouldn't take it, and I can't keep it!"

It suddenly went so quiet that Harry could hear the hum of the grandfather clock in the living room. Mrs. Weasley was staring at him, her hands over her mouth. The twins looked sympathetic; Ginny had tears in her eyes. Harry looked to the doorway. Ron was standing there. He met Harry's eyes, then turned and went back down the hallway; Harry heard his feet on the stairs.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. The noise triggered something; Harry realized what he had done, and his face went hot with embarrassment.

"Mr. Weasley," he stuttered, "I'm sor.." 

Mr. Weasley held up a hand, silencing Harry. He looked at his wife. Harry could see tears on her cheeks. She nodded, her apron twisted in her hands.

He cleared his throat again. "Right. Boys, you may keep the money." 

Fred and George both looked startled. "What?" Fred asked.

Mr. Weasley held out a hand to Harry. Stunned, Harry accepted it. 

"Harry, that was very generous of you," Mr. Weasley said. "Thank you."

Harry couldn't think of a response. "Yes, sir," he said.

Mr. Weasley turned to the twins. "I've got a friend at the Ministry who's a retired lawyer. He could help you get everything set up properly once you graduate. Would you like to talk to him?"

Identical grins broke out on each boy's face. 

"Yeah, we'd like to talk to him," George said. "Thanks, Dad." 

Fred looked at his mother. "Mum?" 

Mrs. Weasley used her apron to wipe her eyes. "Will there be a family discount?" she asked, her smile watery. 

Fred threw an arm around his mother's shoulders. "Of course," he assured her. "Five percent all around." 

Mr. Weasley smiled. "I'm afraid Zonko's had better watch out."

Charlie punched Harry in the arm. Although it was lightly aimed, Harry was sure he'd have a bruise by morning. "So, we'll be dining with an _investor_ this evening," Charlie teased. "How impressive." 

Harry blushed. "I'm not really. I mean…"

George shook his head. "Sorry, Harry, you're stuck. He held up his hands, making an imaginary frame in the air. "_'H. Potter, Investor and Experimental Magic Test Guinea Pig'_ - that's how your door plaque will read one day."

Fred nodded, his expression solemn. "That's right. Stick with us and we'll make you rich. If we don't blow you up first, that is."

"Great," Harry said, after everyone had stopped laughing. "Can't wait."

Charlie looked expectantly at Mrs. Weasley. "So," he rubbed his hands together, "about dinner…"

"In a minute." She held out her arms to Harry. "Come here, dear."

Uncertainly, Harry walked closer, and Mrs. Weasley put her arms around him. 

Harry didn't know what else to do but hug her back. 

She released him, then pushed his hair out of his eyes to kiss his forehead. 

"Dinner's in twenty minutes. If you boys want to get in a game, you'd better run up and get Ron." Mrs. Weasley turned back to her kitchen to start the potato-peeling process again.

Harry sighed. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was talk to Ron, but he knew putting it off wouldn't make things better. He trudged down the hallway and started up the stairs.

*****

Ron's door was open. Ron was sitting on his bed, staring into the open trunk. He didn't look up when Harry entered the room. 

Harry cleared his throat. "Your mum said dinner's in 20 minutes."

Ron nodded, but still didn't look at Harry. 

Harry leaned uncomfortably against the door jam. As the silence continued on, Harry found himself growing increasingly irritated. He had known Ron would be mad if he ever found out where the money for his new dress robes had come from, but after the scene in the kitchen, Harry was in no mood for an argument, and especially not with Ron. He would go outside, he decided, and watch Charlie and the twins play Quidditch. Ron could sit in his room and brood by himself. 

Ron looked at Harry. "So," he said, gesturing to the robes, "I guess I should thank you for these." 

Harry blinked, surprised. Ron's expression was neutral; Harry didn't know how to respond. "I…well, that is…it was no big deal."

Ron nodded. He picked up the brown paper-wrapped package. One corner was ripped, and he ran a finger along its edge. "Does Hermione know? I mean, that you bought them."

Harry shook his head. "No. I didn't tell her. And I didn't buy them, Fred and George did."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, but you told them to. I _knew_ they wouldn't've thought up something like that on their own. Huge tightwads, both of them."

Harry couldn't think of a response.

Ron continued to pick at the wrappings. "You could have told me, you know."

Harry wasn't sure if Ron was talking about buying the dress robes or giving the Tournament winnings to Fred and George. He nodded. 

"Kind of stupid of you, though," Ron continued.

"Why?" Harry asked cautiously.

Ron looked up and grinned. "Well, you saw how good I looked in them. With me around, no one'll give you a second glance."

Harry stared at Ron, then laughed. "I'll live, I think."

Ron tossed the package into his open trunk. "Right. Quidditch, then?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."

Ron grabbed the brooms out of the corner, then paused. "Harry?"

Harry looked at him.

Ron reddened slightly. "Don't tell Hermione what I said about how I look in the robes, okay?"

Harry grinned. "Okay." 

Ron grinned back and started for the door.

Harry pushed ahead of Ron. "As long as Fred gets Charlie to change his mind about that Beater play. Otherwise, I'm owling Hermione first thing after dinner."

Harry ran for the stairs. He could hear Ron's footsteps pounding behind him. 

Life was good for the moment. 


End file.
